


Blue Fire

by greygerbil



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics - Pregnant After Heat Sex, Fairies, M/M, MPREG SEX, Mpreg, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-12 16:58:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19949701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greygerbil/pseuds/greygerbil
Summary: King Gildar returns from a diplomatic mission to find that his lover finally figured out why he was feeling sick lately.





	Blue Fire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ArgylePirateWD](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgylePirateWD/gifts).



Though it was only a few hours past midday, the sun had vanished behind the high spires of the mountains already. Their sharp, white, frosted tips glittered in the moonlight every night of the year, but now even their steep slopes, the town at their feet, and the woods crowding close to it from the east were covered in snow.

King Gildar took a deep breath of biting cold air. There was no prettier place in any of the worlds than his home, Lindir, city under the Spears.

His mount, Oriphan, whinnied softly. Like so many of the winged horses Gildar and his fellowship rode, she did not like walking for long hours, but the cold storm winds had blown too harshly for most of the day to let their mounts fly.

Gildar and his people passed through the city gates, which were ornamented with a thousand slim metal vines embracing each other, and were welcomed by the icy glow of magic fire in lanterns and windows all around them, the blue flames shimmering on the freshly fallen blanket of snow like a thousand stars. Onlookers gathered at open doors and windows as they passed towards the plaza before the palace.

Someone must have run ahead and spoken of their arrival, for there was already a small crowd gathered on the the steps of the castle when they arrived. He saw several of his guards and council members, Pangala, his ancient advisor with her long hair as white as the snow, and, of course, Stranger.

Stranger was the only human in Lindir and in all of Idril. His parents, young, carelesss peasants from the Other Place, had wandered into the forest one night, way beyond where the humans knew they should tread, ignoring the stone circles and withered old tombs of forgotten civilisations laid out as warnings. As it had been a full moon’s night on midwinter, reality had at last grown thin and they had passed over. Idrilian border guards had taken them for spies from Gwendor; they had been struck down by arrows before they could voice as much as a sound of wonder. When the guards checked their limp bodies splayed out in the grass, they found a babe lying in his fallen parents’ blood, quiet as anything, looking interestedly up at the faeries as they came to inspect their quarry. Unsure of what to do with the child, they brought him back into the city, where Voronwa, captain of the guard, had taken him in. He’d been given an fae name, too – Mitharel –, but everybody had just called him Stranger, even Stranger himself when he was old enough to speak, and so that was what stuck.

Thirty years later, Stranger walked among the faeries as one of their own, but it was impossible not to notice him. He stood a head and a half above every one of the fair folk. His bulging muscle, barrel chest and broad shoulders also easily distinguished him from the long-limbed, lithe people surrounding him, as did the heavy cut of his jaw. He had a short-cropped beard, where the faces of male faeries were as smooth as those of the women, and often wore silver armour so heavy no faery would have been able to move in it. Today, however, he was wrapped up in a dark blue mantle with silver patterns that Gildar had gifted him a couple of years ago.

It was certainly odd to see him in the crowd welcoming him back, Gildar thought. Stranger had grown up with Gildar, as their fathers were fast friends, and grown into the role of his guardian from childhood on. He’d been his companion on every quest undertaken since they could both walk and would of course have been part of the diplomatic envoy to the dark fae folk beyond the Rushing River. However, when Gildar had started off two and a half months ago, Stranger had been sick. His bones hurt, he could barely keep food down, and once he had even fainted.

Gildar tried not to let a flash of concern show on his face. He’d been worried about Stranger. They had subtle magic and great knowledge of all plants here, but they did not usually deal with humans. Faeries languished with sadness and longing and might waste away completely due to a broken heart, but they were not prone to fall to mundane sicknesses brought by infection and contagion. Thankfully, Stranger had never grown seriously ill – until now.

When he caught Gildar’s gaze, Stranger smiled at him, and Gildar was unsurprised that he saw relief in his eyes as well. Stranger had begged him endlessly to take him on the journey despite his recent illness, unhappy to let Gildar go into possible danger without him, but Gildar had remained steadfast and eventually ordered him to let it go with a sharp call to his royal authority. Even if Stranger had been his lover and omega for three years, and his friend for thirty, he bowed to Gildar’s commands still, but it was obvious he hadn’t done so happily.

Gildar slid off the horse, patiently working his way through his courtiers and advisors, assuring them of the success of his mission and talking of the new peace treaty with Gwendor as he led them through the massive silver doors, which were worked with reliefs of the many deeds of Gildar’s ancestors. The warmth inside the palace emenating from dozens of blue-lit torches embraced him as soon as they stepped into the main hall.

“I shall tell you of these things in greater detail tomorrow,” he finished. “Our journey was long and I want to retire.”

He had only just taken off the heavy mantle, spun of white silk and topped with magically preserved bushels of wisteria blossoms of the same colour, and started to undo his long braid, when there was a knock at the door of his chambers. He smiled to see Stranger enter at his command. No one else would dare disturb him when he had announced he wanted to be on his own; no one else would have been welcome.

“My king,” Stranger said, smiling as Gildar shook out his hair, smooth golden tresses falling over his shoulders. “We expected you in the morning.”

“The winter storms kept us.”

“They have been raging all week. I wondered if the horses could make it. I’ve wished I were with you every day.”

Stranger looked so much like an abandoned dog that even though Gildar was sure he had done the right thing, it was difficult not to pity him. He put his hand on his cheek, enjoying as ever the odd sensation of his bristling beard, and guided Stranger down into a kiss.

“Well, I am home, and I should say I had much more cause to worry. How have you been?”

Stranger’s dark eyes lit up.

“Edien finally figured out what has been eating away at me,” he said.

The court healer had stood in bewilderment before Stranger’s illness when Gildar had left, so this was news indeed. Gildar gave Stranger an expectant look.

Stranger brushed back the long mantle wrapped about his shoulders. He was wearing a tunic underneath – unusual for him, as he preferred light armour of boiled leather even at home. However, the soft dark fabric stretched around his middle in a way armour would not have permitted. Gildar stared at the curve of his belly.

“Impossible! Humans can only carry the children of other humans…”

Immediately, a flame of jealousy whipped up in him, unreasonable as it was, for Stranger was loyal to him unto his death – and yet, how else could he have come by a babe?

Stranger gave a bellowing laugh and cupped Gildar’s face with his shovel-sized hands.

“Silly king,” he admonished, “where would I meet humans? I haven’t been to the Other Place in years. No, it’s a child of the fae. Put your hand on my stomach, you will feel it. Edien said he finally realised when its soul had grown strong enough.”

Unlike humans, the fair folk carried a tangible flame within them, one any fae could feel when laying their hand on another. Many thought humans were uncomfortable to touch for the lack of that – hollow and void. Gildar considered it more of a resting calm, like the frozen lake on a cold day, and it had never bothered him.

When he drew up the tunic from under the belt and placed his hand on Stranger’s belly, however, there was a quiet flicker underneath his skin.

Gildar could feel his heart beat in his throat.

“How?”

To be true, he had been in Stranger’s bed during his heats often enough, but it had never born fruit before.

Stranger’s expression grew a little sheepish.

“Edien told me that most humans and faeries might not have tried as long as me and my lover have,” he said. “So it might indeed be more difficult – but no, it doesn’t seem to be impossible. The child should be about six months along by now.”

Edien knew, of course, who Stranger’s lover was, though he was too polite to spell it out. Most people did, though they spoke of their affair in secret; indeed, a lot of faeries probably figured they had been together in this way much longer than they actually had. They had hesitated, in truth, for the very reason that it was Gildar’s duty to continue his bloodline and while Stranger was an omega, he was a human still. With Gildar the only living descendant of the royal house, they knew what he had to do. However, after years of denial, they had finally fallen together, and since then Gildar had lived with the growing despair of knowing that he could not imagine being with anyone else, yet that they were on borrowed time regardless.

But this child was fae in spirit, as the burning soul proved. It was perfect and it was Stranger’s, the only omega Gildar had ever wanted to mingle his blood with, for he was convinced their children would have all the earnestness, loyalty, and unfailing good humour which he found so admirable in him.

“The court will hear of our betrothal come the morrow,” Gildar said, as he felt a smile stretch over his face.

Stranger laughed and lifted Gildar in his arms to kiss him, which Gildar usually found very sweet. This time, however, he slapped him gently on the shoulder.

“Put me down. You’re carrying a child, you’ll not be carrying anything else.”

“You weigh almost nothing, my king,” Stranger said, but he set him back on his feet.

“Hardly. Besides, you must now concede I was right not to take you into danger.”

Stranger frowned, but broke down into a grin quick enough. Like Gildar, he seemed too happy to argue, and it was not in his temperament to do so, anyway.

“Well, perhaps it is unwise for a king to put a babe in his personal guard’s belly! But I shall be easy on such follies.”

“Very gracious of you.”

Gildar took Stranger’s calloused hand and led him to the edge of the bed. Stranger smiled brightly as he let Gildar slide off his tunic and take in his changed form. He must have started to grow soon after Gildar had left, for he was already quite visibly pregnant now. Of course, Gildar understood why no message had been sent. There was some information that they needed not risk falling to the hands of Gwendor, even if there was tenuous peace now.

It was soothing to think his child was housed in such a strong body. Alphas of the fae priced omegas who kept themselves fit for this task, so they were often a little stronger than their lovers, but even so Stranger was too intimidating for most, as he could pick any faerie up by the scruff of their neck like a misbehaving kitten. It had only ever made Gildar want him more (and he figured that many others envied him this lack of cowardice if he went by the many furtive glances that Stranger always drew). Seeing the result of their love, he found heat stir within him, the desire to get close to him and reaffirm their union.

“You are magnificent,” he murmured.

“As are you, always. I missed you, my king.”

Stranger drew him onto the bed, fumbling with the intricate clasps on Gildar’s robes. The silver fabric slipped to the ground. In turn, Gildar pulled off the loose-hanging belt and leather breeches Stranger was wearing. To his surprise, he found them damp where the fabric had clung to his thighs.

“Already?” he asked, reaching between his legs.

“Well...” Stranger grew red in the face. “It has been odd, I suppose, for my mate not to be around. I do miss you whenever you’re gone, but this time it felt like you had taken a chunk of flesh straight out of my chest with you, and every moment I felt the hole. So when you returned...”

“I’m sure nature wishes us to stay close and makes our bodies act in turn,” Gildar said, feeling guilty now that he had left his omega and child. Then again, that peace treaty would keep them both safe in the long run. “You smell heavenly, too.”

Stranger tugged Gildar against himself, between his thick, muscular legs, playfully wrapping them around Gildar’s hips.

“So, aren’t you faeries close to nature?! All the time I have to hear about how I couldn’t possibly understand you talking to the flowers and trees and whatever else! You should better make sure you listen to nature’s decrees.”

Gildar laughed and pressed Stranger down into the mountain of pillows, the silk cold against their skin as he laid down with him. Stranger let himself be guided onto his side, from where Gildar reached around to grasp his manhood, which was already hard. His lover groaned, his deep voice low, pleading wordlessly. Gildar kissed his neck.

“You’ll be at my side from now forever,” he said into his ear, the shell of which was so curiously round and blunt, just inviting him to run his lips along it, Gildar’s long, thin fingers working his manhood gently as he rutted against Stranger’s muscular backside. “You’ll be my consort and my guardian.”

“My king…”

“You won’t have to climb the trellis to my window anymore, or sneak out of my bed at midnight, you will sleep in my chambers and no one can say a word against it.”

He found his hand possessively cupping his belly, his omega and his child. Stranger pressed his back into him and Gildar bit his shoulder as he pulled his cheeks apart and slid into that warm, wet, welcoming body, so eager for his touch. Stranger _whimpered_. Gildar was fairly certain he could count on one hand the amount of times he’d heard him make that sort of sound before.

There was no keeping himself under any sort of control after that. He pushed into him and Stranger moved with him as easily as if they were one. Gildar pressed Stranger’s manhood up against his bulging stomach, trapped it between the taut skin and his palm. There was very little grace in the way his thrusts came against him, all just animal need flooding through his body, but Stranger was reaching back, pawing at him, urging him on with stammered words.

Gildar spent himself in him, purring with satisfaction to smell himself on his mate. Stranger needed only a couple of firm strokes of his hand to follow.

As their breathing evened out, Gildar felt his knot grow and shifted, placing himself more comfortably against Stranger’s broad back. His hand rubbed gently along the swell of his belly, imagening the soul beneath like the blue candle flames.

“I needed that,” Stranger murmured.

“I’m at your disposal now,” Gildar said earnestly. “For whatever you want.”

They laid in comforable silence for a moment. Gildar smiled as he followed the gently shifting flame of the fae soul Stranger carried with his fingertips on his skin.

“You know, I still remember when _you_ were a babe.”

“You do? You were so young yourself,” Stranger answered.

Only just three years, but the fair folk had much better memories than humans.

“Your father brought you into the palace right when he got you. It was such a cold winter, but obviously the king had to sanction the presence of a human foundling. You and your father were both covered in snow when you arrived. They showed you to me when they had put you in a fresh blanket.”

He still remembered the captain presenting the bundle to him where he sat on his father’s knee.

“What did you think of me?” Stranger asked, grinning as he glanced back over his shoulder.

“You were so big – bigger than any fae babe I’d seen – and had a few little teeth sticking out of your gums.” He looped a short strand of Stranger’s dark hair around his finger. “I asked them if you were a troll child.”

Stranger’s back shook against him as he laughed.

“If you call our baby a troll, I’m going to the Other Place with it and mating with the first farmer I find. I’ll return to my roots, my king, you’ll see.”

Gildar huffed.

“I thought we faeries were supposed to be the ones stealing children?”

“I was raised a proper faerie, you know?” Stranger pointed out. “So you’d better be nice to our child even if it looks like me.”

“If it looks like you, it might easily grow into the most beautiful man or woman in my kingdom,” Gildar murmured, burying his face in Stranger’s hair.

“Oh, now you can be charming – when you’re worried I’ll run off.”

“You would never be so cruel to me.”

Stranger sighed.

“No, I guess I wouldn’t. You know me.” He covered Gildar’s hand with his own, enveloping it totally. “It’s snowing again,” he said, after a moment.

Gildar, who had found his favourite spot to rest, with his forehead pressed into the back of Stranger’s neck, opened his eyes to peer past his shoulder. Flakes swirled behind the window, white against a dark evening sky.

“I have nowhere to be in a good while, so I wouldn’t care if it snowed until the castle doors can’t open.”

He closed his eyes again as Stranger leaned back into him. It was winter now, but their child would be born alongside the first flowers pushing out of the thawing earth. Stranger’s warmth in his arms was like spring sunshine.


End file.
